


Loved You First

by solasta



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Child Abuse, Codependency, Dysfunctional Relationships, Harry is bossy, Kid Fic, Kid Harry Osborn, Kid Peter Parker, Later Drug Use, M/M, Minor Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Not so nice to Gwen fic, Parksborn, Puppy Love, Superfamily (Marvel), Timeline What Timeline, Universe Alteration, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-23 19:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1576154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solasta/pseuds/solasta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For as long as he could remember Peter Parker was in love with Harry Osborn. If only Harry Osborn knew that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loved You First

**Author's Note:**

> Alright so the timeline for this fic is a bit strange but i want to make it clear that instead of the timeline for the Avengers moving back to accommodate TASM, TASM is moving forward to accommodate the Avengers. Also I'm obsessed with this pairing, I don't know why really. There isn't much evidence of them in TASM2 but for some strange reason I've fallen in love with it. I love Gwen, don't get me wrong, it's just that the Gwen/Peter pairing is kind of boring (don't kill me!) and super predictable. I wanted to play with this pairing a bit to be honest. That being said, I am changing the info to suit my own selfish, selfish needs. For example I'm adding in Flash from the cartoon, I'm also putting Peter into an orphanage for reasons that will be revealed later. Basically I'm messing with everything, i hope you don't mind, promise it'll make a good fic. Okay, enough of me talking, let's get on with it.

Chapter 1: Special

It all started when he was seven. 

Things were just becoming normal again after the death of his parents and Peter was finally feeling good again, finally feeling happy again, or as happy as a seven year old orphan could feel. His classes were going well, nobody was picking on him too much, and everyone at the orphanage seemed to have finally accepted his presence among them. This was all great he knew, but he also knew full well that the true reason for his happiness, one of the few reasons he had to smile beyond the occasional discovery of a spider within the orphanage bathrooms was sitting right in front of him, legs crossed primly beneath him as he stared determinedly at the chessboard between them. The driving force behind Peter’s happiness was simply and without a doubt Harry Osborn and Peter was so grateful for him that he could cry. Harry was the one who brought Peter to school, the one he sat with in class, the one he ate his meager lunch with, the one who snuck an extra lunch in for him to replace his meager lunch with, the one who drove him home every day, the one who visited him at the orphanage every Saturday and Sunday at three o’clock sharp. Harry was the one who made Peter smile with his odd jokes, the only one who made fun of him affectionately and not cruelly, the only one who didn’t look at Peter as just ‘that strange orphan boy’ but who looked at Peter as just Peter. Peter was forever grateful for Harry Osborn, even if he was a bit spoiled, and liked Wolverine better than Captain America.

Even now, as Harry sat on Peter’s wrinkled patched quilt, toes bare against the scratchy materiel of the blanket, Peter knew he was special. Of all the people in the world that Harry could have, Harry wanted Peter and only Peter it seemed. Harry wrinkled his nose at all other attempts of friendship, quietly dismissing all other child vying for his attention. Harry only had eyes for Peter and Peter didn’t know why. It wasn’t as if Peter was all that special, with his buggy brown eyes and thick black glasses. He was too scrawny, his limbs were too knobby, his chestnut brown hair too thick. He had a Uno brow for gosh sake (at least that’s what Harry always said, and why wouldn’t Peter believe Harry?). He had no idea why Harry would choose him of all people. 

Especially since Harry was kind of beautiful. Peter didn’t feel particularly strange admitting that to himself. After all everyone knew it. Harry was a beautiful boy. All the girls at school thought so; all the boys at school knew so. Even middle aged women fawned over him, pinched his cheeks and caressed his hair as Harry smiled with almost angelic patience. Peter would be there of course to hear Harry later as he huffed in frustration and he wiped his cheeks free of smears of lipstick. He’d be there to sit through each and every one of Harry’s complaints about ‘insolent women’ and ‘vultures’ and he would pretend to understand the words and sympathize but Peter couldn’t really blame them. After all, Harry was an angel. He had eyes that were bluer than the sky and silky blonde hair that always behaved. He practically shone within the small almost bare room of Sawyer’s Orphanage for Boys, with his honey blonde hair tickling the tip of his nose while he tipped his head. The smooth strands glowed like a halo around his face, reflecting the light of the setting sun coming from the slightly crooked wooden window. Even the pale dust surrounding Harry seemed to almost move towards him, pulled around him and attracted to his magnetism just like anything else, just like everyone else. His pale chin was cradled gently in the palm of his hand as he leaned his elbows on his knees and his pink full lips were pursed in a thin concentrated line as Harry lifted pale nimble fingers to a rook and moved it accordingly. As Harry’s cerulean blue eyes flicked up to Peter’s, boring into him intently as his lips unfurled into a loose mischievous smirk Peter could not imagine what sane person wouldn’t want to kiss Harry’s cheeks. 

Harry wrinkled his nose at him affectionately and somehow without even knowing what it meant, Peter knew he was in love.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It was in that same room, months later that Peter knew he was truly hopeless. Harry was lying under the quilt next to him, bare toes cold against Peter’s shins and eyes half-lidded with warmth. It was a cold day outside and snow lined Peter’s crooked Orphanage window sill as the aged would creaked and rotted under the unaccustomed weight. Peter lay still beside his friend, barely daring to breath in fear of waking Harry from his lazy state. Harry’s eyes were still stained red around the edges from his tears earlier in the evening, the tip of his nose flushed from his sniffling. Peter just prayed that if he remained still enough his friend may fall into a precious peaceful sleep, away from all his troubles, away from all his pains.

Praying ever really worked for Peter.

“Why does he hate me Petey?” Harry murmured softly, his blue eyes glowing brightly with unshed tears. He sniffled gently, and a tear leaked from his eyes down the gentle slope of his freckled nose. Peter felt his heart constrict. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong with you, you’re…” Peter swallowed hard, but he couldn’t get passed the lump in his throat if he tried, watching his best friend crying himself silly over a father who would never love him like he deserved. Peter licked his lips and reached a gentle hand out to brush away the stray strands of hair from Harry’s forehead. “You’re perfect.”

Harry was silent and still for a moment, staring at Peter like he didn’t quite know what to do with him. After a second he nodded curtly, whether to accept Peter’s words or acknowledge them Peter didn’t know. All he knew was that Harry Osborn, his Harry was snuggling up against him and tucking his blonde head underneath his chin and Peter swore that his heart was going to leap out of his chest. 

Peter felt Harry’s soft breaths against his collarbone, felt to tip of his nose against the hollow of his throat. Peter felt his own heart palpitate rapidly, even as Harry’s breaths evened out with sleep.

“Do you think my Mother would have liked me Peter?” Harry whispered softly and sleepily against Peter’s skin and Peter held him tighter, trying once again to swallow past the lump in his throat.

“I think she would have loved you Harry.” Peter whispered, running his fingers gently through Harry’s soft hair, something he remembered his mother doing when he was upset. Peter pressed his mouth to the top of Harry’s head, not quite a kiss but as close as he would allow himself. “I think anyone would love you.”

Peter could swear he felt a soft pair of lips brush his collarbone but he could’ve just been imagining it. What he didn’t imagine however were the words he whispered over and over again that night, long after Harry had fallen asleep, in either confession or comfort he wasn’t sure.

“I love you Harry. I love you.”  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ “Sarah Anne kissed me on the mouth last night.” 

Harry had a way of saying things that made them sound breezy. As if whatever he was saying didn’t really matter, even if it really, really did. Things like, ‘Father says you can come over tomorrow’, or ‘I’ve got extra candy’ or ‘He only hit me once, he’d been drinking’ slipped from Harry’s mouth as smooth as water, as if they were really just passing observations like the weather or what he wanted for his birthday. And though Peter found it incredibly worrying at times, and incredibly annoying at other times, most of the time he found it endearing. 

Today however he found it confusing.

“Whaaa?” Peter blinked in confusion as turned his attention from the television to his friend, speaking warbledly through a mouthful of chocolate. Harry always had the best sweets at his house, and he was always willing to share with Peter, something that Peter was ashamed to say he took full advantage of. Even though Peter felt guilty about the sheer amount of the stuff he ate, he couldn’t help it the chocolate was just so good. It melted in his mouth and got all warm and sticky under his tongue and made him feel like nothing bad could happen to him ever but right now, at this moment, for the first time, he really hated having a mouth full of chocolate that was too good to just swallow quickly or just spit out. It made it harder to properly communicate his shock. Harry only glanced at him lazily, blue eyes staring pointedly at Peter’s mouth before he sighed.

“You have chocolate all over your face, you cretin.” Harry muttered as he flipped the channel. Peter’s brows furrowed in confusion which Harry rolled his blue eyes at. “Cretin. It’s a word! It’s like…urchin or…or hobo or – Oh for the love of – don’t do that Peter!”

Peter froze, the back of his hand halfway across his mouth in attempt to wipe away the chocolate. Harry glared at him before rolling his eyes and tugging Peter off the blush carpet of the Osborn Mansion floor. Harry’s hand was warm and tight around Peter’s wrist and Peter stumbled after him to keep up with his pace. Harry pulled Peter into a lush white bathroom that was undoubtedly bigger than Peter’s entire room at the orphanage, and shoved Peter onto the crème couch.

“Don’t touch anything.” Harry ordered primly, before turning and reaching under the sink. He pulled out a fluffy grey hand towel and began to dampen it under the water as Peter attempted to keep his hands up by his head while he sucked the chocolate from his teeth.

“Sarah Anne?” Peter asked slowly, brown eyes wide. He swallowed what was left of the chocolate in his mouth as Harry turned back to him, blue eyes exasperated. “ Kissed you? On the mouth? Last-”

“Yes, Peter, yes. Now please stop repeating literally exactly what I’ve just said?” Harry snapped quickly as he gently took Peter’s left hand in his. Harry began to use the warm cloth to wipe away the smudges of chocolate as Peter stared at him in shock.

“Wh-Where was I?” Peter asked in surprise. Harry looked up at Peter briefly from beneath his lashes, looking almost shy for a second.

“In the bathroom.” Harry said curtly as he threaded the towel between Peter’s fingers. Peter’s eyes widened further. He had thought Harry looked a little flushed when he returned from the toilets but he figured that maybe someone had made him upset. Maybe a distant relative had gotten too familiar or his father had made a mean remark. He didn’t ask about it because it was Harry’s birthday and he didn’t want his friend to be angry on his birthday. But maybe he should have asked, maybe he should have brought Harry to the bathroom with him, maybe-

“Did you like it?” Peter asked softly. Harry blinked, looking up from Peter’s hands up to his face. He stared for a moment before looking aware quickly.

“No.” Harry said swiftly, grabbing Peter’s other hand to wipe the chocolate off the tips of his fingers. Harry rubbed the soft cloth over Peter’s knuckles roughly, throat bobbing slightly. “I mean…it’s not like I didn’t like it I just…it was okay.”

“What was it like?” Peter asked timidly. He wanted to know. Not to know what it was like to kiss Sarah Anne per se but just what it was like to kiss. He had thought about it so much that he kind of felt like he already had an idea but Harry. Harry had experience now, he had expectations, how was Peter ever going to-

Not that Peter was ever going to get a chance to kiss Harry.

“Short.” Harry said thoughtfully. “Kind of sticky. I think she had eaten some cake before. Kind of soft. It wasn’t anything special. I don’t like her or anything.”

Peter was quiet for a moment, trying desperately not to react, to continue to focus on the feel of Harry’s warm skin touching his own as he cleaned his hands. Despite himself Peter felt a flush creep up his neck.

Sarah Anne didn’t even like Harry (not really, not truly. Sure he had heard the girl passingly talking about how blue Harry’s eyes were or how soft his hair looked but she never talked about how funny Harry was or how clever he could be or how he could shove nine grapes into his mouth without chocking. Nothing important.) and she got to kiss him. Peter loved Harry, he did and yet he hasn’t even gotten that far.

He suddenly didn’t really like Sarah Anne at all.

“That sounds nice.” Peter lied, clenching and unclenching one of his hands. Peter blinked as something suddenly occurred to him. “Did…did she kiss you or did you kiss her?” Peter asked.

Harry’s eyes shot up from Peter’s hands up to his face. He stared at Peter for a moment, his brows furrowed.

“Why would I lie about this?” Harry asked softly. Peter’s eyes widened.

“I…” Peter blinked as Harry started to pull away, and instinctively grabbed his friend’s wrists to keep him in place. “I’m not saying you’re lying! I, I’m just saying that you’re not the type to usually let people just touch you like that; you like to be the one touching. I just find it a little weird that you let her kiss you. It would just make a lot more sense if you kissed her is all!”

Harry looked at Peter intently for a moment, lips pursed in an angry line as he ripped his hand out of Peter’s grip. Peter tried desperately to swallow his hurt. He deserved it for practically calling Harry a liar of all things.

“Well I didn’t.” Harry snapped firmly, taking the edge of the cloth and running it over Peter’s chin.

“Okay.” Peter murmured, his eyes soft and remorseful as he looked at his best friend.

They were both quiet as Harry wiped the chocolate from Peter’s mouth and were still quiet as Harry began to wash out the wash cloth. It didn’t take long before Peter cracked.

“I’m sorry Harry.” Peter muttered. He couldn’t see Harry’s face as his back was turned to him and his head was down in the mirror. However he saw his friend’s arms freeze in the stream of the water and took that to mean he was listening. “I…” Peter swallowed. “I guess I’m just a bit jealous that you got your first kiss before I did.”

Harry looked up at that, making eye contact with Peter through the mirror.

“Really?” Harry asked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Peter felt his heart tighten in guilt. Harry had every reason to be suspicious; Peter was lying through his teeth after all.

“Yeah.” Peter said softly. Harry’s eyes softened and his brow furrowed as he turned off the water and tossed the cloth in the hamper by the door. He sat gingerly beside his friend, flicking his blue eyes over his friends face. Peter stared determinedly at his lap, but after Harry was quiet for several moments he looked up to his friend reluctantly. “Do you…do you forgive me Harry? I know you’re not a liar…”

Harry stared at Peter intently for another moment before scooting closer on to him the couch. Harry slid until there thighs were touching, looking up at Peter through long fair eyelashes for a heart-stopping moment. Harry’s warm pale hands came up to Peter’s cheeks, holding his face in his palms for a moment, stroking his cheeks gently with his thumbs. 

“Harry?” Peter breathed his eyes wide as he stared into his friend blue eyes. Peter could swear that Harry had never been this close. He could count the eyelashes around his friend’s bright eyes, count the freckles on the bridge on his nose, feel his breath over his lips, smell him-

Before Peter could work himself into a frenzy Harry’s lips pressed against his, soft and sweet and Peter’s eyelids fluttered softly before the closed. Harry didn’t do much more then press their mouths together but that was more than Peter could have ever dreamed of, more than he could have ever wanted. Their noses bumped together as Harry pulled away and Peter wanted to pull him back, wanted to tell him to stay but he felt like his breath had been pressed out of his lungs. He kept his eyes closed as long as he could, savoring the feeling of warm hands on his cheeks and the tingling of his lips where Harry’s lips had once been. Peter gingerly licked his lips and he could swear that he could taste Harry among the lingering sweetness of the chocolate and his eyes opened lazily to see a smirking Harry in front of his eyes.

“I forgive you Pete.” Harry said breezily, and there it was again, like it was no big deal, like the kiss between them was nothing new, nothing incredible.

Peter never knew that love was supposed to hurt.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment and tell me anything that you like or don't like about the fic! I am open to critique and suggestions! If you liked it please leave a kudo :)
> 
> Next chapter will probably be later in the week.


End file.
